In Search of Mnemosyne
by highland laurel
Summary: Daniel and Jericho help Mingo discover the events that led to the blow that temporarily removed his memory. Contains references to several DB episodes.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The afternoon sunlight was strong as it beamed down on Mingo's still face and closed eyes. Slowly the drowsy Cherokee became aware of his surroundings. He could hear the bird calls and leaves rustling in the summer breeze. That breeze lightly touched his bare arms and stirred the thick black hair that covered his forehead. He carefully opened his eyes and found himself lying flat on his back at the base of a steep hill. He didn't move for several seconds, puzzling out the reason for his position. Only blank blackness filled his mind.

Breathing more rapidly as fear began to circle his heart, he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. His bare arms were scraped and bruised. Bracken covered his body and stuck in his long black hair. From the pain in his ribs and the general sore feeling of his entire body Mingo surmised that he had rolled down the hill beside him. But he had no memory of it.

A bee buzzed around his head and he automatically lifted his right hand to chase it away. He was surprised to see a frayed rope still attached to his wrist. He glanced at his left wrist and found that it too had a rope attached. He had been bound, a captive. But of who? And why?

With that knowledge he quickly stood and staggered into the shelter of the nearby trees to hide. There he leaned against the smooth bark of a sycamore. His head was throbbing and he was thirsty. He pushed his way farther into the forest, searching for a stream or spring to slake his thirst. Finding one within only a few minutes he drank deeply and then sat supported by a large walnut tree. There he took inventory. He was missing his gun, his knife, and his whip. Being virtually defenseless in the Kentucky forest was not comforting. He gathered several nearby stones to use as missiles if the need arose.

From the general weakness of his body Mingo understood that he had been without food for days. His empty stomach, now filled with water, churned unpleasantly. Wearily he pushed himself to his feet and gathered a number of fibrous vines, braided them for added strength, and set two snares along a small game path nearby. He quickly made a firebow to start a fire when evening came. Then he sat back against the walnut tree and watched the leaves fluttering in the gentle summer breeze.

When he awoke in the early evening his snares yielded a young, tender rabbit which he laboriously cleaned using the sharp edges of several broken rocks. The ragged edges tore the meat but after many minutes of labor Mingo was able to remove the skin and clean the body cavity.

He spitted the meat over the small fire that he had kindled using the firebow he'd made. While the rabbit roasted he teased the rope from his wrists using another sharp rock. Even without seasoning the rabbit meat was most welcome and he ate every morsel. As the nourishment coursed through his sore body Mingo lay back on the moist Kentucky soil and sought his elusive memory.

A half mile away Jericho crept as silently as possible through the thick underbrush below the ridgeline. He and Daniel had split up when the bear they'd been stalking decided to turn from the hunted to the hunter. That was several hours ago and it was nearly dark. He'd been circling in an ever-widening arc, hoping to cut Daniel's trail. Suddenly he noticed a section of scraped vegetation. It looked as though someone of size had recently slid or rolled down the side of the hill. Cautiously Jericho followed the path of broken vegetation to the bottom. In the last summer light he could see moccasin prints trailing into the thick brush nearby. Judging by the strange placement of the tracks, the owner of the prints was unsteady on his feet. There was no sign of blood droplets to indicate a wounded man. Puzzled, Jericho crouched down to think.

Deciding that the man was possibly injured in a way he didn't understand, Jericho carefully followed the trail of stumbling footprints. About a hundred yards into the thick forest he spied a prone figure. Silently he glided closer. In the murky twilight he recognized the clothing. The tall recumbent man was Mingo. Never before had Jericho known the Cherokee to allow someone to sneak up on him. He must be injured. Feeling protective, Jericho softly spoke Mingo's name and approached to stand by his side. In the near darkness the young man could just make out the other man's features. There seemed to be a large swelling above Mingo's right eye. It was discolored and seeped a bloody fluid. As Jericho stood looking down at his friend he noticed that Mingo had no knife and his whip was also missing. There also was no sign of his rifle.

The small campfire was nearly out. Quietly Jericho walked out into the woods to find as much firewood as he could before it became impossible to see. When he returned to Mingo's camp he carefully placed the wood beside the fire ring and sat down to watch over his friend's deep sleep. He had never known the man to sleep so deeply and he was becoming worried about Mingo's physical condition.

Jericho munched on a piece of jerky and added several small sticks to the fire. Then he placed his gun across his knees and leaned back against the large oak behind him. His mind rambled and a clear memory of Mingo's laughing face brought a smile to his own. He remembered the tall man leaning back from his knees, laughing heartily as Suma's tribesmen carried him to the sweat lodge. Though he had never told Mingo, the Cherokee's presence during that time had been most reassuring.

Jericho thought of other times when Mingo and he, usually with Daniel, had adventures together. Now watching the sleeping man Jericho realized how empty his life would be without Mingo. His humor, his understanding, his reassuring nature was a strong support that Jericho had never acknowledged. As the hours passed the young pioneer decided to tell his friend of the important role he played in Jericho's life.

Late in the night Mingo stirred and moaned softly. Jericho came instantly alert and leaned forward to watch the other man stiffly pull himself into a sitting position. As his eyes focused Mingo started to find another man so close. His hands patted the ground, searching for the pile of stones. Jericho's voice was soothing as he spoke.

"Mingo, it's me, Jericho. I've been watching you sleep for hours. Are you all right?"

Mingo closed his eyes against the pain of his throbbing head and tried to remember Jericho. Only the blackness filled his mind. He opened his dark eyes and stared at the young man. Nothing, no memory of any kind. But obviously the other man recognized him. Mingo realized that this was a blessing and determined to use the knowledge to help himself.

"I seem to have lost my memory. I can't say that I know you. You said your name is Jericho?" The youth nodded, his handsome face creased with concern.

"Tell me my name again, please. Perhaps that will help spark my elusive memory." Whatever memory the blow had removed, it had done nothing to impair the education received years before. Mingo remained as courtly and erudite as he had always been. Jericho smiled at Mingo's earnest face and answered.

"Your name is Mingo. You are my friend; I have known you for years. You've been a very important part of my life. I'd never told you that before, but I want you to know. You are a Cherokee but your father was English. And what happened to you I have no idea, except that you've got a knot on your head the size of a chicken egg. That's prob'ly why you can't remember."

Mingo's long fingers tentatively touched the knot. It was very tender and obviously recent. Jericho leaned onto his knees and reached inside his pack for a coffee pot and coffee. The rich aroma wafted to Mingo's nose and he sniffed appreciatively. Jericho smiled and rose to find water. Mingo pointed in the direction of the little spring he'd found earlier and smiled as he realized he'd remembered that. Apparently new memories weren't going to be affected. Only the distant past.

While Jericho was gone Mingo struggled to remember the young man. He tried to place his voice, his appearance, anything. But there was no memory of any kind. Mingo frowned, and the wound on his head throbbed more strongly. Gingerly he again touched the knot. Who had hit him that hard, and why? And why had he been bound? Shaking his head in annoyance, Mingo glanced up as Jericho entered the camp. The young man leaned forward and placed several larger sticks on the fire, and as he did the firelight lit up his handsome Irish face. Suddenly a flash of recognition exploded in Mingo's mind: Jericho around a campfire in a large camp of some kind. There were wagons and several men. Jericho and he were seated around a fire, and another man, a very tall man, was striding toward them.

Jericho continued to settle the pot in the fire. He glanced up and caught Mingo's expression.

"You just remembered something didn't you? If you'll tell me what it was, I'll tell you what was happening and maybe you'll remember more."

Mingo nodded. "You and I were sitting around a campfire, eating. A very tall man approached us. We were in a large camp with several men and wagons. There were tents too. I dished up a plate of food for the other man but he told me to keep it hot and walked away. That's all I remember."

Jericho grinned. "You, me and Dan were in the camp of a road-building crew that crossed Shawnee land and killed a Shawnee boy. We were trying to stop an Indian war and the leader of that crew was bein' mighty stubborn. Dan got the idea to use up all the water so you and him would have to go out and get more. He said that we were dirty and needed a bath. I said I'd just swum a river the day before, and you said the same thing. But that's how we used up the water. You said bathin' in a barrel was 'somewhat constricting'. You're always saying things like that. Must be your Oxford education."

"My what?"

"You were schooled in England by your daddy. At a place called Oxford. You always talk way above the rest of us. Cincinnatus is always ribbin' you for it."

"Who does what?"

"Cincinnatus, the man who runs the trading store and tavern. He ribs you. Teases you. Tall, thin man with a bushy gray beard. Makes a wicked brew he calls Blue Thunder. Don't want to drink much o' that stuff. It makes you lose your mem'ry too and gives you a wicked headache."

"I haven't been imbibing, have I? I too have a 'wicked headache'."

Jericho shook his head. "I'd a smelled that from a mile away. You ain't been drinkin'. You don't ever drink more'n ale or rum. I've never seen you drunk or even tipsy. You just aren't that way."

Mingo nodded slightly. The coffee was boiled and Jericho poured a measure into his tin cup and held it out to his friend. Mingo gingerly sipped the hot coffee. The aroma was pleasing. He closed his eyes and another memory formed. He was seated in a tall-backed settee. Before him he could see that same tall man and a pretty red-haired woman seated in a rocking chair. They all three were sipping hot coffee, and the feeling of deep bonds pulled at Mingo's heart. Across the fire Jericho spoke softly.

"You're remembering something else, right?"

"I am. That same tall man and a pretty woman before a fireplace. We all three are drinking coffee and talking pleasantly."

"That's Dan again, and Becky. You and he are the best of friends. You've been his friend since before he came to live in Kentucky. You showed him the place for the fort. He and Yadkin helped you fight off a passel of Shawnee and that's how you three met."

"Yadkin?"

"Dan's friend from the Carolinas. They were scouting a route through the Gap and lookin' for a place to build a fort. They ran into you and you showed 'em. Remember Yadkin? I only met him once or twice. He was tall and had gold hair that hung in waves to his collar. He wore a mustache. Usually dressed in buckskins. Wore a hat with a long feather on the side."

Mingo stared into the fire. Yadkin. Yes, another memory was forming. Mingo's lips tightened against the pain. Yadkin was lying in a bed. His chest was bandaged. The man called Dan and the woman called Becky stood nearby. So did many other men. And a very small white-haired boy. Yadkin's voice was plaintive as he asked the questions.

"Why, Mingo? That's all I ask. Why?" The blue, blue eyes that looked into his were filled with hurt. Mingo swallowed as the memory continued to form. Jericho sat watching the play of emotions that darted across Mingo's face in the firelight.

It had been Taramingo that shot Yadkin. His brother. Another memory formed. The water closed over his head as he frantically clutched his brother's arms. His hands grabbed for the rocky bank and Taramingo pulled them away. He felt his fingernails pull loose. The cold water swirled around his body and banged him against the rocks.

His lungs were on fire. He tried to scream and water filled his mouth. Mingo fought the memory and pushed it out of his mind. The cup of coffee slipped from his hand and spilled hissing onto the hot stones. Jericho leaped and grabbed the cup before it fell into the fire.

"Mingo! Are you all right?" Jericho was anxiously clutching Mingo's muscled arm. Slowly the Cherokee became aware of his surroundings. The near-drowning had happened many, many years ago. But the memory was very powerful. He felt drained and released a shuddering sigh. He nodded at Jericho.

"I think I had better sleep again. Thank you for the coffee. It was most welcome." Mingo backed away from the fire a few feet and lay on his side, his back turned to the fire, his left arm crooked as a pillow. As he lay willing his breathing to steady he felt a blanket cover his long body. He smiled at the affectionate gesture, then allowed the last memory to form. It was of his mother Talota. They were laughing and splashing each other in the small stream. In his hand was a speckled rock that his mother had just given him. The pleasant memories surrounded the drowsy man and he fell asleep in his mother's arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Mingo awoke to the sound of birds and the smell of brewing coffee. He slowly turned and came face to face with the tall man of his memories. The man smiled and held out a cup of fragrant coffee. Mingo slowly sat and reached for the hot drink. He saw Jericho and Daniel exchange a quick glance. Gingerly he reached his long fingers to feel of the wound on his forehead. It was still very tender. Slightly embarrassed though not sure why, Mingo sipped the coffee and sat thinking.

Another camp, another time. The three sat and discussed Aaron Burr and his plot to separate the states west of the Appalachians from the eastern seaboard states. Jericho had butted heads with Daniel when the youth decided to be Burr's guide to the Cumberland. Mingo and Daniel had tried to draw him away from the charismatic man before the ex-vice president could be captured and Jericho with him. Jericho had learned many valuable lessons about trust and true aristocracy, the aristocracy of the heart and mind. Both Mingo and Daniel possessed the qualities that Jericho had thought he'd found in Aaron Burr.

As the three men sat around the campfire far away near the Cumberland, Mingo began to teach Jericho the Latin that the youth had decided separated the educated from the uneducated. The soft syllables of the ancient language floated on the warm Kentucky air as the natural teacher and the eager student parsed sentences and recited Cicero.

Mingo remembered many speeches from the famed orator and taught them in their original Latin. Soon Jericho was walking through the fragrant forest preaching the limitations of government to the native wildlife. Beside him his two older friends wore wide grins.

Mingo smiled at the memory. Across the campfire Daniel and Jericho smiled back, though both sets of eyes did not lose their look of concern. Daniel rose and crossed the open space to Mingo's side. He looked carefully at the dark bruise and the still swollen bump over his friend's right eye.

"That's a mighty big bump you've got there, Mingo. Jericho told me that you can't remember how it happened. Just what can you remember?"

"I am remembering small vignettes of the distant past. I know that you must be Daniel because Jericho told me about you. But truly, I have only snippets of memory concerning you. Or anyone else, for that matter."

Daniel frowned and searched Mingo's dark brown eyes. They were clear and seemed alert. They tracked together indicating that there was no really serious injury. Daniel sighed in relief and placed his big hand on Mingo's shoulder. He squeezed affectionately and gestured for Jericho to toss his bag of jerky across the fire. Daniel reached inside and gave a large piece of deer meat to Mingo, then rose and stretched.

"With your permission I'd like to start on your backtrail and see if we can find out just what did happen to you. You can stay here with a supply of jerky. We'll leave you the coffee pot and some coffee. The spring is only about ten yards away. You can rest and heal. We should be back in a few days."

Mingo shook his head. "If you two are going to find out what happened to me, I will be with you. Just let me finish this meat and have another cup of coffee and I'll be quite able to accompany you."

Daniel grinned at Jericho. "Still talks purty, don't he?" Jericho grinned back and nodded. Mingo pretended to be offended but couldn't suppress the smile that lifted his wide lips. He finished his breakfast as the other two doused the fire and packed for the journey. Then they pulled Mingo up between them and began to search the ridge to find his trail.

Two days later the friends found their answer. A small cabin had been erected beneath a towering oak tree. The yard had been cleared and behind the cabin was a field of ripening corn. The outbuildings were rough and had little beauty.

The entire place looked cobbled together carelessly, as though the people living there had little appreciation or care for pleasure. As they stood above the cabin on the small ridge an uneasy feeling passed through Mingo's heart. Beside him Daniel glanced at his face and read the narrowed eyes and tight lips perfectly.

"Mingo, you remember this place don't you?"

"I can't be sure, but something about it is familiar. I don't know why." Suddenly a memory sprang into Mingo's mind. He turned to Daniel and took the big man's arm.

"I was bound! I just remembered that. When I gained consciousness at the base of the hill where Jericho found me, I had frayed ropes around both wrists. I cut them off with rocks."

Daniel frowned. "Maybe you and Jericho had better stay right here. Let me go down and get a feel for the place." Daniel turned before Mingo could object and strode down the ridge to the cabin. Above him Jericho pulled Mingo to a position behind a circle of honeysuckle. They watched as Daniel walked across the yard and up to the cabin porch. There was no answer to his knock. Daniel walked around the cabin, searching for anything out of the ordinary. He was lost to sight for several seconds as he explored the base of the ridge. Then he came walking easily up the incline to sit beside his two friends.

"Well, Mingo, there's a cave that runs under this ridge here. Do you remember that?"

The tall Cherokee shook his head carefully. "Daniel, I don't have any memory of this place. No true memory; only a feeling. And that's not much to go by."

"I'll tell you what I think. I think that you came walkin' up in plain sight and someone here beckoned you close. Then they whacked you on the head and knocked you out. They tied you. You musta seen something that they didn't want anyone to see. How you got away is a mystery to me. Maybe someone helped you. But I can tell you one thing; I'm not leavin' here until I find an answer. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that you're lucky to be alive!"

Jericho's face registered alarm and concern. He unselfconsciously patted Mingo's back with affection. "And I'm right glad that you are!" The young man's voice was bright with friendship. Mingo turned his head and smiled at Jericho, warmth beaming out of his large dark eyes.

Daniel checked his powder-filled pan and adjusted his horn and pouch on his shoulder. He gave Mingo's shoulder another squeeze and started back down the ridge to the cabin. Mingo and Jericho watched him from the honeysuckle patch. As Daniel walked into the yard they saw a small thin man appear to spring right out of the hill below them. This man walked behind Daniel, then hailed him with a friendly wave of his hand.

Turning, Daniel greeted the small man. They seemed to be conversing, then Daniel followed the man into the cabin. After several minutes a boy came out from under the ridge and walked toward the pole building behind the cabin. Two cows pushed against the pole fence as the boy approached. The boy patted each animal's neck and ducked under the fence. He took a tin pail off the fence and disappeared into the building. A tiny black and white kitten bounded after the boy. Suddenly Mingo leaned forward and peered after the boy.

"I recognize the boy, Jericho. He set me free! Now I remember." Into Mingo's mind sprang an image of the boy. He was bound in a dark, closed, suffocating space. His arms were pulled so tightly that the muscles spasmed painfully across his chest and shoulders. He was concentrating on breathing in the tightly enclosed space. The boy crept silently behind him and cut the rope with a small kitchen knife. It was dull and the boy had to push hard and saw the fibers laboriously.

After the bonds were cut the boy stood silently beside him for several seconds. Mingo remembered the boy's gentle hand as he carefully touched the knot on his forehead. Then he turned and was gone. Mingo slowly rose and stood as tall as the sloping roof allowed. Then he staggered out through the open door and climbed the hill on his hands and knees. He collapsed after only a few miles and laid where he fell until the morning sounds awoke him.

In flashes isolated memories returned to Mingo's mind. He was striding across the yard, his hand raised in greeting. The thin woman stood before the cabin, her hand raised also. On the porch stood the boy with a small kitten in his arms. From behind the cabin came the thin man. To his right Mingo could see an opening into the rocky ridge.

As he glanced to the right the thin man's face twisted into an expression of rage. He grabbed a length of the tree branch that had been cut for the fire as he ran toward Mingo. Raising his rifle to block the blow, Mingo was aware of the woman's scream and the boy's shout. The piece of wood flew through the air and Mingo's gun vibrated in his hand. The man grabbed the gun and pulled hard. Off balance, Mingo felt the gun slip from his hand as he fell. He rolled along the ground and then he remembered nothing else.

Jericho sat silently beside him. Below them the boy came from the pole barn with the bucket of milk. The youngster stood several seconds gazing up at the ridge. From their brushy shield the two men gazed back at him. The boy was thin, with soft light hair and a wistful expression. Mingo thought of the kitten in the boy's arms. The child was obviously a sensitive boy. Compassion for the boy's situation flooded Mingo's heart. Across the yard raced the little black and white kitten. The boy sat on his heels and dipped his finger in the bucket. The kitten licked the milk from the child's finger. A small pleased laugh drifted up the ridge to the two men crouched in the honeysuckle. Then the cabin door opened and the thin man yelled for the boy to come into the cabin. Straightening quickly, the boy obeyed. Outside in the yard the little kitten sat on its haunches and meowed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Daniel left the cabin after nightfall. He climbed the hill and found Mingo asleep and Jericho watching over him protectively. Daniel sat near Jericho and softly reported his findings. Together the two men pieced together the probable reason for Mingo's brutal treatment and imprisonment.

Nearly an hour later Mingo roused and sat up shakily. Without a word the other two men pulled him to his feet and the three slowly walked down the ridge and into the nearby forest. Jericho gathered wood by the light of the crescent moon as Daniel readied the fire ring and searched for water. Mingo sat leaning against a sweet gum, his eyes closed. The two day walk had taken more energy from him than he had realized and the resulting weariness was troubling. He opened his eyes as Daniel came back with a full pot of water and Jericho emerged from the forest with an armload of wood. He watched them prepare the camp, allowing his mind to form memories of similar experiences from many years of association with the two before him.

Daniel raised his eyes to Mingo's as the water began to heat. Jericho sat silently nearby. The tall frontiersman cleared his throat and from his expression Mingo understood that he was about to relay information that was serious.

"Mingo, the man down in that cabin is selling bootleg whiskey to a bunch of renegade Miami. When he saw you comin' and knew that you weren't a Miami, he knew he had to hide this from you. And then you saw the opening into the ridge. That made you dangerous. He was going to give you to the Miami whenever they showed up again. That's why you were a prisoner. He's real worried that you're going to ruin his little trading business now. How'd you get loose? Do you remember?"

"The boy cut me free. I don't know how long I was a captive, but I do know that I wasn't beaten more than the original clubbing. I guess that blow took all the fight out of me. I don't remember being fed or given water, but I must have been. "

"I don't think you were captive very long; maybe a day or two. You're a little thin but not skinny. I still think that you were real lucky the boy freed you."

"On that point I am in total agreement, Daniel." The dark eyes looked into Daniel's light green ones for several seconds. "You know that we have to end this trade in whiskey."

"I do, but I haven't decided how yet. Let's eat and sleep on it."

Jericho pulled out several pieces of jerky for each man, and with several cupfuls of coffee they made a meal. Then Jericho and Daniel each told stories about their adventures with Mingo, trying to spark memories for their friend. Mingo only half listened. He couldn't forget the boy with the kitten.

About an hour later the three men stretched out onto the ground and fell asleep. Late in the night Mingo awoke and sat alone before the fire, his memories returning in bursts of sight and sound. As the leaves rustled softly in the night breeze he sat and relived his life.

In the morning Mingo turned to his friends with worry creasing his brown face. "Daniel, whatever we do we must protect the woman and child. It is the man that is dealing with the Miami, not them."

"I know, Mingo. That's why I want to involve the law. But in the meantime we have to do somethin' to stop the trade."

"They will recognize me, Daniel. I know that the boy will."

"Then we'll have to leave you out of this."

Jericho spoke from Daniel's left hand. "Let's just blow up the entrance, Dan. The corn isn't ripe yet and he can't make more until it is. Let's destroy his supply."

Daniel nodded. "It's where to get the powder that's got me thinkin'."

Mingo's eyes lightened as an idea sprouted. "Daniel, we could take all the supply and pour it out. It would take all night, but it is possible. I doubt that he guards the cave all night."

Daniel looked at his friend and nodded. A smile lifted his lips. "Mingo, you're right. With the three of us we could form a pretty good team."

Jericho also nodded. "I think I need more'n a little jerky to work like that. I'll go get us a turkey or a few rabbits." The young man got to his feet and without another word disappeared into the forest. Mingo laid down and closed his eyes. The bump had receded but the bruise was still very dark. Daniel sat quietly nearby watching his friend's deep breathing. The world would have been much emptier without the tall man sleeping beside him. Daniel said another silent prayer of thanksgiving for Mingo's safe release at the hand of the child.

Jericho returned an hour later with a young turkey and the two men prepared the meal as quietly as possible. Mingo continued to sleep, lying unmoving on his back with his arms at his sides. Daniel and Jericho whispered stories to each other, memories that were ordinary and dear. As Jericho told of Mingo's delight in watching him endure the Creek's initiations, his voice naturally increased in volume and Daniel's warning came too late. Mingo lay listening and a smile crossed his face as he remembered.

"You were amazingly receptive to my advice, Jericho." Mingo's voice startled the other two. They turned to look at him as he raised himself easily. "You would have been a successful member of that tribe if you had decided to stay. But I must admit that I am glad that you didn't. I have known of successful intertribal marriages, but I can't remember any successful unions of white and Indian unless one or the other was raised in that society."

In the silence that followed all three men thought of Mingo's parents. Talota and John Murray had lived together for years and created a son, yet in the end Mingo's father left his Indian family and returned to England. Mingo sat staring into the fire and the other two men allowed the silence to settle around them. Both knew that Mingo was wrestling with troubling memories and they didn't want to intrude.

The turkey was eaten and the coffee drunk before the sun was high. Daniel suggested that they all three rest for the night's ordeal and they all lay down. Soon the even breathing of the three indicated that all were asleep. After only an hour Mingo awoke. He silently sat, thinking. Memory after memory was returning, tumbling through his mind like leaves before an autumn wind. England, Chota, Menewa, his Cherokee friends, Daniel and his family, boyhood joys and sorrows. As the hours passed and his friends slept Mingo sat with his ankles crossed, tossing bits of wood into the fire as he wandered the paths he'd forgotten.

After the light went out in the cabin window the three men crept silently down the ridge to the cave opening. Inside Daniel kindled a small fire for light then he passed the barrels of whiskey to Mingo and Jericho outside the cave. The two men carried them a short distance, popped the wooden corks and poured the contents out onto the ground. In his weakened condition Mingo worked slower than Jericho and occasionally Daniel carried a barrel outside when Mingo didn't return quickly enough. Together the three men emptied forty-seven barrels of whiskey, an entire winter's work. The sky was brightening toward dawn when the last barrel was emptied and the three men wearily climbed the ridge back to their camp.

They ate a quick meal of jerky and coffee, then stretched out to sleep. Mingo awoke first, troubled by the fear that the family would now be destitute and possibly in danger of death at the hands of the Miami. He crouched down inside the honeysuckle circle and watched the agitated family. The woman was grasping her hair and circling aimlessly in the yard. Beside her the boy kept patting her arm. Mingo could see the boy's mouth moving. Obviously he was trying to quiet his mother. The man was turning every barrel on the soggy ground as though believing that he could find one still full. Mingo could see his worried expression.

He felt someone touch his arm and turned to face Daniel. He beckoned silently at the scene below them. Daniel watched in silence, then leaned over and spoke quietly spoke to Mingo.

"He looks real worried, doesn't he? I wonder if we could get them to come with us to Boonesborough?"

Mingo's eyebrows lifted as he considered Daniel's words. That solution would solve all the problems. He turned to Daniel and smiled. "Let's go and offer now. The sooner we all get away, the less chance that the Miami will find any of us."

Daniel rose and strode back to the camp. He brought Jericho and together the three walked down the ridge. The boy saw them first. He recognized Mingo and put out his hand in a gesture of warning. But the tall Indian and two white men continued toward the cabin. Daniel and Jericho both carried their rifles in the ready position. Mingo walked between them. From behind the cabin came the sound of cursing.

"Boy, we've come to talk to your Pa." Daniel's voice was low and gentle. Jericho took the woman's arm and pulled her to her porch. Mingo placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and they followed Jericho. Daniel went around the cabin to bring the man inside with his family.

Inside, the boy went to stand protectively near his mother. Mingo smiled at the gesture and walked to bend before the child. "Son, I appreciate the gift you gave me. Now it's our turn to give you something."

"What do you mean? What could you give us? You're a Injun, even if you do talk like us. I shouldn't a cut you loose. I shoulda thought about Ma and Pa first."

Mingo had faced such prejudice many times. Looking deeply into the boy's light blue eyes Mingo saw that there was no hatred there. Only a distrust born of ignorance. Sighing, the tall Cherokee rose to stand beside Jericho. Absently he fingered his bruised forehead. The boy watched and winced. Mingo saw the wince and remembered the kitten.

"Where's the little black and white kitten? I seem to remember that you had one just a short while ago."

The boy left his mother's side and climbed the loft. When he returned the small kitten was nestled in the crook of his arm. Shyly the boy walked to Mingo's side and raised the kitten for Mingo to see. Gently Mingo caressed the silky fur. He took the little animal into the crook of his arm as it clawed its way across the man's leather vest. Warm and comfortable, the little cat began its loud contented purr. The boy exchanged a smile with the man, and a friendship was born.

Daniel entered the cabin with the boy's father. The man reeked of whiskey from the saturated ground. His head was bowed as he walked to stand before the fireplace. In the complete silence the sound of the kitten's purring seemed abnormally loud. Jericho looked at Daniel and the tall founder of Boonesborough described his offer.

"Folks, the Miami aren't goin' to take the loss of their trade goods easy. I reckon you know that. But we can help you pack up and get gone from here before nightfall. Boonesborough is about a week's travel to the south and we'd be pleased to have you come and join us there."

The man turned from the fireplace and stared at Daniel. "Why would you do that? And you," the man pointed at Mingo, "why would you do anythin' to help us after what I did to you?"

Mingo stood with the kitten nestled in the crook of his arm. He met the white man's eyes. "A fair question. If I should wish your punishment at the hands of the Miami, what kind of man would that make me?"

Silence fell once again inside the tiny cabin. Mingo and the thin white man looked into each other's eyes. Finally the white man crossed the floor to stand before Mingo. He stretched out his hand to the tall Cherokee. Mingo took it. The handshake lasted for only brief seconds, but an entire new life began with the action. "Mister, you're a better man than me. And I thank you."

"Well, folks, let's get your wagon loaded quick. By the way, I'm Daniel Boone, this is Jericho Jones, and this is Mingo. "

The farmer stared at Daniel. "You said your name was Yadkin."

"I couldn't tell you who I really was and find out all I needed to know. I couldn't take the chance that you'd know my name. You wouldn't have told me about the whiskey, Mingo or the Miami if you'd a known who I was, would you?"

"No, I prob'ly wouldn't have. You're right. I'm Cyrus Hendersen, this is my wife Eileen, and this is our boy Samuel. We're pleased to know all three of you." Turning to Mingo he added," I'm right sorry about the clubbin' I gave you. The Miami are due any time. I'm shamed, but I was goin' to add you to the usual trade." The thin man hung his head and swallowed.

Mingo asked the question that had been bothering him for hours. "Mr. Hendersen, why are you trading whiskey to the Miami? You must know that colonial law forbids it."

Cyrus Hendersen continued to hang his head. His reply was soft and filled with shame. "I do know. But I am indebted to a man named Billings. He paid our passage over here from England. Once here, he demanded that I grow as much corn as possible, distill it, and trade it to the Miami. It was how he wanted our debt paid. He's a merchant in Williamsburg. I give the whiskey to the Miami and they give me prime pelts. He has a man come every spring to take them over the mountains to the city. I keep a strict account in my ledger and this man, his name is Carson, checks every figure. I've bought Eileen and Samuel free, and I'm almost free. But if we go with you to Boonesborough I'll have to find a way to pay the rest or he'll come after me. I know he will."

Mingo, Daniel and Jericho exchanged a look. Then Daniel spoke. "Well, Hendersens, we'd still best get a move on. The chance that the Miamis will arrive is gettin' better ever hour. "

Cyrus Hendersen nodded to his wife and trotted out the cabin door with Daniel right behind him. Inside the cabin Mingo and Jericho helped Eileen Hendersen and Samuel quickly pack all their belongings and carry them out to the wagon. Daniel placed the household items behind the farm tools in the front of the wagon while Cyrus hitched the horses and tied the two cows on the back.

After only two hours the entire household was ready to move. Daniel explained to Cyrus where the three men would meet up with the wagon and the thin farmer drove his family south from the cabin.

An hour later, their camp easily dismantled, the three friends met the Hendersens. Along the way Mingo shot a small buck with his newly returned rifle. He bled it and gutted it with his newly returned knife. His whip rested in its usual position at his belt over the knife sheath. He felt much better, almost whole again. The bruise was still sore but the swelling was entirely gone. And to his relief his memory was wholly restored.

As the afternoon wore on his strength began to wane. Though embarrassed, he accepted the Hendersen's offer to ride in the wagon. They let the end gate down and Mingo sat, leaning against the rolled bedding. Samuel and the kitten joined him there. Soon they were all three asleep, the kitten in Samuel's arms and the boy slumped trustingly against Mingo's lean body. The Cherokee's arm was protectively draped around the sleeping child. Behind them Daniel and Jericho walked, their gait easy and their faces alight with smiles.

After the hearty venison supper the Hendersens bedded down under their wagon. Jericho and Daniel placed their blankets at opposite ends of the camp to act as camp guards. Mingo stretched comfortably near the fire. The silence of sleep settled over the camp. Gradually Mingo became aware of something soft snuggling against his lean hip. He felt the little paws kneading his side. Smiling softly, the gentle man fell asleep with the little cat purring contentedly against his warm body. He was complete.


End file.
